


When I'm with you, I'm home

by cathcer1984



Series: Tumblr Fic [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Getting Together, Lawyer Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Post-Canon, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathcer1984/pseuds/cathcer1984
Summary: Stiles and Peter reunite after nine years.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Tumblr Fic [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/546709
Comments: 4
Kudos: 296





	When I'm with you, I'm home

**Author's Note:**

> For Booknerd6012 who asked for prompt 15 off [this list](https://avenging-criminal-bones.tumblr.com/post/189019521454/drabble-request-help%22):
> 
> 15\. “When I’m with you, I’m home” and Peter. 
> 
> Also partially based on [this picture of Ian Bohen](https://cathcer1984.tumblr.com/post/612679655070318592/teenwolflegacy-ianbohen-on-instagram).
> 
> And hey, look who wrote some not-angst!

Stiles does a double take when he sees him in the restaurant. He stumbles into Max, his friend from work, as he stares.   
  
"You alright, bro?" Max asks, grin on his handsome face and hand on Stiles' shoulder.   
  
"Yeah, man." Stiles nods, eyes still on the man on the low bench across the room. "Just seen someone I once knew."   
  
Max floors his gaze, then whistles lowly. "Handsome."   
  
Stiles is agreeing with Max before he's fully registered what Max said. But he's right, Peter is handsome. Still. Stiles has never seen him so relaxed. He has a tumbler of whiskey in one hand, a full beard instead of the douchebag goatee, hair longer but still neatly kept. Stiles watches in fascination as Peter lifts his hand to his mouth and sucks some sauce off his middle finger.   
  
It shouldn't be as hot as it is.   
  
"Fuck," Stiles breathes out. 

Max is chuckling next to him, and nudges him in the shoulder. "Go and talk to him."

Spinning round Stiles faces Max with wide eyes, "and say what?"   
  
"Hey, remember me? I want to sit on your dick." Max raises an eyebrow. The older woman next to them shoots them a glare, and he apologises insincerely.   
  
Stiles thunks his head onto Max's shoulder, "I can't say that," he whines.   
  
Max's hand holds the back of his head. "I'd say he remembers you just fine," Max's voice rumbles, the amusement clear in his tone.   
  
"What?"   
  
"He's coming over, babycakes. Look lively." Max pats Stiles on the back of the head before using his hair to pull him up. Stiles goes easily, glancing to the left to see Peter approaching them, his dark jeans sinfully tight.   
  
"Is that my hoodie?" Stiles asks, staring at the grey fabric.   
  
Peter's steps falter slightly, Stiles wouldn't have seen it if he hadn't been looking, but he covers it with a smirk. "Of course not." Peter’s a lying liar who lies, right now.   
  
Skeptical, Stiles raises an eyebrow. Peter's lips twitch in response. Then his amusement fades as he turns his gaze onto Max, or more specifically where Max has a hand on Stiles' hip.   
  
"Hey bro," Max grins, holding out his free hand. "I'm Max."   
  
"Peter." He responds, taking Max's hand briefly then dropping it. He shifts his full attention to Stiles. "What brings you to this part of town, sweetheart?"   
  
"Celebrating a big win." Stiles slides a glance at Max who hasn't moved away and is watching the two of them closely.   
  
"Indeed." Peter holds Stiles' gaze. Stiles squirms under the intensity of it. He's missed the way Peter makes him feel. "Well let me buy the winning lawyer a drink."   
  
Tipping his head slightly, Stiles finds information slotting into his mind like pieces of a puzzle. "You know I'm a lawyer?"

"It hasn't been that long, sweetheart." Peter's face is stuck in a soft curl of his lips. He's enjoying this, Stiles knows but there's something more, something deeper and it's niggling at Stiles' brain.   
  
"It's been nine years, Peter."   
  
Peter laughs, "like I said, not that long."   
  
Biting his lip, Stiles takes a half step towards Peter, Max's hand falling from his hip. "Have you been keeping tabs on me, Peter?"   
  
Shrugging shamelessly Peter grins, though he does lower his voice, "I've kept tabs on all my pack-mates." 

"Uh-huh." Stiles steps into Peter's space, he holds onto the hem of the hoodie. "And how many pack-mates have you stolen clothes from?"   
  
"All of them."   
  
He says it so simply, so blase that it makes Stiles pause. His fingers fall from the hem but Peter catches them in his warm hands. He jostles Stiles' wrists until Stiles is looking up into Peter's eyes again. "Think it through, sweetheart, you're a clever boy."   
  
The pieces fall together inside Stiles' brain. He stares at Peter, eyes wide with disbelief. Peter smiles softly, bringing his head toward one shoulder in a _what can you do?_ kind of way.

"You-" Stiles trails off, he's awed. "Why me?"   
  
Peter glances to the side and Stiles feels almost cold at the loss of his gaze. When Peter looks back at him his eyes are hooded with something Stiles wants to call regret.   
  
Behind him, Max clears his throat causing Stiles to startle. He'd forgotten his friend was still there. Stiles turns away from Peter to meet Max's gaze. Max winks at him, "go on, dude. Celebrations can wait, man."   
  
Nodding, Stiles takes a deep breath as he faces Peter again. He disentangles one wrist just enough that he can slide his hand up so they're hands are palm to palm, curling his fingers around Peter's. "Let's get out of here, yeah?"   
  
"Yours or mine, sweetheart?" Peter doesn't ask if Stiles is sure, just accepts the answer.   
  
"Who's closer? I'm like twenty minutes away."   
  
Peter smirks, he leans in breath hot against Stiles' ear as he whispers "I'm just upstairs."

“You live upstairs?” 

“Of course, sweetheart, I own the place.” 

Biting his lip to keep from moaning Stiles takes a moment, squeezing Peter's hand. "Yours it is. Lead the way." And Peter does, he lets go of Stiles' wrist but tugs their joined hands so they rest against the small of his back as he leads Stiles away from the restaurant, up a flight of stairs and into his apartment.   
  
Even when they're alone, Peter doesn't let go, doesn't step out of Stiles' space. Stiles rests against the door, Peter watches him with a soft look that Stiles wants to call fond but there's too much heat behind it to be so innocent.   
  
"So you stole my hoodie."   
  
Peter smirks. "I did," he inclines his head. "Have you figured out why, clever boy?"   
  
"Because I'm your Pack."   
  
"You are, sweetheart." Peter steps in closer, runs the tip of his nose along the line of Stiles' neck, across his jaw just so until he can press his lips to Stiles' Adam's apple.

"How long have you been stalking me?" Stiles gasps as Peter kisses down his neck to bite at his collarbone, sucking a bruise there. He tuts as he pulls away. Rolling his eyes, Stiles puts a hand in Peter's hair, "yeah, yeah, I already know. I've seen you lurking. I was surprised you were out in the open tonight."   
  
"Were you really?" Peter murmurs, eyes roving over Stiles' face.   
  
"A little. It's been a few months since you started being a Creeper Wolf again." Stiles tightens his grip in Peter's hair, tugging him forward so they can kiss properly.   
  
Peter's mouth is soft and pliant. His beard is scratchy but it's a sensation Stiles really likes. His tongue wet as he licks across Stiles' lips, his mouth opens easily and Peter takes advantage by licking into the space he's been granted. When they break the kiss, Peter pulls back, lips shiny with Stiles' spit. He flicks his tongue over the lower one. Stiles groans and leans into kiss him again.   
  
"You never answered my question." Stiles whispers before he licks into Peter's mouth, chasing the taste of whiskey on his tongue.   
  
Humming Peter pulls back enough to ask, "and what questions was that, sweetheart?"

"Why me?"   
  
"I like you Stiles." Peter kisses his cheek, soft and barely there, Stiles can feel the cool slickness of spit on his skin the only reminder that it even happened at all. "And I’m impatient. I didn't want to wait any longer. When I'm with you..." Peter seems to debate with himself, and Stiles strokes his thumb over the top of Peter's ear in silent encouragement. "When I'm with you, I'm home."   
  
Stiles smiles, soft and joyous. "Yeah, I kind of love you too, dude. Even after all this time."   
  
They kiss again and Peter hauls Stiles up by his thighs. "Can I take you to bed?"

"Fuck yes." Stiles sucks an earlobe into his mouth. Beneath his hands, Peter shivers, sensitive ears, Stiles files that information away for later on.   
  
" _Max_ , won't mind?" Peter asks hastily.   
  
"Do you honestly care?"   
  
Peter drops him on the bed and Stiles bounces a little. "No. But you might."   
  
"Max is a friend. That's all." Stiles kicks his shoes off and starts working on the buttons of his shirt as Peter strips out of the hoodie. "Come here, I want to kiss you again."   
  
"So demanding." Peter rolls his eyes, but there's a soft smile on his face at the same time so Stiles figures he isn't that put out. 

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr](https://cathcer1984.tumblr.com/)


End file.
